


Pick a Card

by ungoodpirate



Series: Pynch Week 2018 [8]
Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Pynch Week, Ronan Swears, Tarot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 04:03:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15477276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ungoodpirate/pseuds/ungoodpirate
Summary: Adam does a tarot reading for Ronan. Ronan, of course, is difficult about itDay 8 of Pynch week 2018- free choice





	Pick a Card

“Pick a card,” Adam said, and then with a grinning flourish added, “Any card.” He elbows were propped on the top of the dining room table. It was a table Ronan grew up sitting at for family dinners with grace said before eating. It was never a table for tarot card readings. 

Ronan eyed the splay fanned out into Adam’s fingers. “You know I don’t do this,” he said. 

“I know you didn’t,” Adam said, with a hint of a shrug. “I didn’t either. But a lot of things have changed.” The implied: I’ve changed. You’ve changed. 

Adam lowered the held out cards a fraction. “I don’t want to force you if you don’t want to.”

The harshly slanted light of mid-morning came through the wind at a strange angel, illuminating half of Adam’s face and not the other, drawing attention to the line of his jaw, of his nose. 

Well, Ronan had certainly been involved in more dangerous things in regards to his soul than tarot cards. 

Ronan lowered his hand, but didn’t go directly to the cards. Instead, he laid the tip of his fingers on the back of Adam’s wrist then dragged them forward across the lines of veins and the knobs of knuckles. Only then, when he reached the end of his path, did he snatch a card out of Adam’s hold. 

“Are you supposed to guess?” Ronan asked.

“I’m not that sort of magician.”

Ronan looked at the card face properly. “Cool. Swords.”

“Dammit,” Adam said, genuinely irritated. “That whole suit is about drama, fighting, and strife. I mean, it fits you perfectly, but it’s also annoying.” He jabbed the fanned deck forward again. “Pick another.” 

Taking more care, Ronan drew a second card. A cocksue grin spread across his face. 

Adam sighed. He knew what card Ronan had drawn just from his expression. 

“That’s not what it means,” he said. 

Ronan’s eyebrows raised. “What what means?”

“The Lovers card.”

“But they’re naked.”

“Draw another.”

“You’re bossy.” But Ronan acquiesced. Doing a tarot reading was kind of fun, but maybe that was the antagoning Parrish part.

He pulled his third card. Everything in him softened, down to and including his bones. 

“What?” Adam asked, of course catching the reaction. 

“It’s you,” Ronan said fondly, turning the Magician card around for Adam to see its face. 

A divet formed between Adam’s eyebrows. It was his thinking look. 

“Wait,” he said, and reached out to flip over Ronan’s sword card that had been discarded face down on the tabletop. Knight of Swords. Headstrong, passionate, direct. 

Adam tapped the edge of the card. “This is you.” With his other hand, he reached out for The Magician. “This is me.” He slide them close, to either side of The Lovers. “This is us. Together.”

“You said that’s not what that card meant.”

“Not what it means…” Adam ducked his head. “Necessarily.”

“Then what does it mean… necessarily.” Ronan said it the shittiest way possible. 

“Connections between people,” Adam said. “Bonds. Love of all varieties. And also... that variety.”

Ronan felt a little flushy under his cheeks. It had been easy to be smirk-y when he had felt control of the situation. But now the cards were saying something about him and Adam. Yeah, they had gotten handsey, but they hadn’t been dating that long. 

He decided to hide his emotions by glaring at the table instead of at Adam.

“Are you saying --,” he started. He cleared his throat. “The cards are saying -- we’ll be together in the future.” 

Adam’s mouth felt dry. This was a lot for a few weeks into a relationship, even though he knew the type of person Ronan Lynch was in his connections with other human beings, with his heart, with his soul. 

Here they were, sitting caddy corner from each other, in a house that wasn’t his. It smelled like dust, but not in a dry Virginia summer way, but in the way Aglionby did. Like old books and history. 

“I don’t believe anything is predetermined,” Adam said. “Tarot isn’t for figuring out unmovable fate.”

“So…” Ronan said. “You’re saying their fucking meaningless.”

“No,” Adam said with a little huff. “I’m not saying that at all. The cards… they give suggestions, hints, insight, possibilities, advice. You drew these cards.” The three arranged on the table. “From me, no less. That has to mean something. But we still choose. Choose to wake up each day and choose how we live our lives. Choose to be friends. Choose to care. Choose to love… Destiny is stupid. Choice is so much more than that.” 

Ronan laid his hand out on the table, palm up -- an offering. Adam placed his hand in Ronan’s. 

No words needed to illustrate the point. A choice and a choice, in the same direction.

**Author's Note:**

> You know, when they write ‘free choice!’ as the prompt, I guess it is supposed to mean you can do whatever you want or pick one of the unused prompts from a previously day, but nah. When i see ‘free choice!’ Imma like, ‘well the prompt is the words ‘free choice’, got use that as my theme…’


End file.
